Gundam Siege: A Gundam Wing Harry Potter Crossover
by Ammie Hawk
Summary: Second story in Wands, Guns, and Kunai series. With the war of Voldemort now in the open, Harry's life becomes more hectic. How is he going to balance his relationship with his boyfriend with school? And who are the new transfer students? Yaoi
1. Chapter 1

Gundam Siege: A Gundam Wing Harry Potter Crossover

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: So don't own Gundam Wing or Harry Potter, even though I love torturing the characters.

Summary: Second story in Wands, Guns, and Kunai series. With the war of Voldemort now in the open, Harry's life becomes more hectic. How is he going to balance his relationship with his boyfriend with school? And who are the new transfer students?

AN: Okay so here's the first sequel to Castle Guards. The Gundam Wing storyline comes from an adopted plunny that I decided to incorporate here, curtsey of Deb from the Slytherins Collective Yahoo group. Here's the original plunny: Anne Une's aggressive and dangerous personality is beginning to resurface, so the G-boys have to go into hiding as she is pushing the doctors to see what kind of things were done to them by the scientists. Trowa finds out that he has a twin brother (Harry obviously) and masquerading as transfer students, the five G-boys transfer into Hogwarts during sixth year. Since Hogwarts is unplottable and unfindable by Muggles (and persistent Princesses) they should be safe right?

Chapter 1: A Place to Hide

"Do we have any ideas?" a small blonde asked, nervously biting his lip as he checked through the security feeds on a laptop in front of him.

"Trowa has relatives here in England, which could bring them to us more quickly," a shaggy haired brunette frowned at another laptop in front of him. "I erased him from the system, along with the rest of us, but that only buys us a little time. We'll have to keep on the move."

"We can't contact anyone's family," a quiet baritone came from the auburn haired teen in the corner, his one visible green eye unreadable. "That would be the first place they looked and if they know anything they'll get hurt."

"I feel sorry for my sisters," the blonde sighed. "They don't even know me."

"We'll have to leave the Maganacs as well," scowled a raven haired Asian teen, the final person in the room. "We can't ask them to sacrifice their lives and peace for us."

"You're right of course, Wufei," the blonde shook his head sadly. "By the way, where's Duo?"

"He went into town with Rashid," the brunette answered stoically. "Don't worry, Quatre, his disguise was impeccable."

"I hope he has some ideas," the blonde, now identified as Quatre, ran his hands through his hair. "He seems a bit unconcerned about this whole turn of events."

Just then the door burst open, admitting a fifth teen who was trying unsuccessfully to untuck a three foot long chestnut braid from the back of his shirt with only half a hand. The reason for his troubles was quite obvious as in one hand he had two bags and a cage with an owl in it and the other clutching three more bags. Behind him, a large, muscled Arabian carried about ten more bags.

"Duo?" the Prussian blue eyes of the brunette locked with amethyst.

"Oh, this?" Duo indicated the bags. "This is so we'll fit in. I've found us the perfect place to go."

"You have?" Wufei asked incredulously.

"You doubt me, Wuffers?" the braided teen took a step back in mock hurt.

"Wufei," he growled. "My name is Wufei. Get it right, Maxwell."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Duo waved him aside, finally setting down his burdens and freeing his braid. "I've got a place where they'll never find us. And Rashid has volunteered to help us."

"Rashid," the small blonde sighed, "we can't ask this of you. You have too much to lose."

"Master Quatre," Rashid shook his head, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I won't hear a word against it. I've known, ever since our first meeting, that there was something special about you. It wasn't until Master Duo asked me to take him into town today that I finally realized what it was. Now, I'm not going to hide you or even ask you to tell me where you're going. I'm just going to help with the supplies for your journey. Now, if the four of you would come over here, we'll get started."

He opened two of the bags he'd brought in and began laying out various pieces of wood in numerous types and sizes, and other objects the pilots weren't quite sure what all of them were.

"I need all of you to pick out a piece of wood and one of the other items," he motioned to the table. "I will tell you what they are after you have chosen."

The four pilots shared a confused look, but Quatre decided to humor the man who had been an inspiration to him. His light blue eyes traveled over the various twigs and finally landed on one that looked rather durable to him. He tested his theory by bending and twisting the branch lightly, but no matter what he did it didn't break. Once satisfied, he moved on to the other materials. This took him significantly less time. He was drawn immediately to a collection of pure white hairs, from which he pulled out one that seemed to glow in the artificial light. He handed both items to Rashid, who took them with a broad smile and a nod.

Trowa went forward next and in no time at all had picked out a light stick and a pitch black hair and handed them both to the Maganac. He was followed by Heero, who selected a stick and a long, dark blue feather that was so dark it was almost black in it's coloring. Wufei approached the table last, a frown marring his features. He did not move to take anything from the table but instead pulled something from his forearm that none of them had ever seen there before and placed it in front of Rashid.

The large man picked up the stick and examined it. "Ash and dragon heartstring, 11 inches," he said contemplatively. "Very well, Master Wufei, it appears I have one less to make. Now, Master Duo, if you will give me your materials, I shall begin."

The braided teen began rummaging through the bags at his feet and finally pulled out another stick and a jet black hair, with just a tint of blue to it. He handed them over and Rashid placed them with the others.

"I am happy to say," the Maganac began, turning back to the others, "that you have all passed the test. The items you selected will now become your wands. For Master Heero: oak and the tailfeather of a black phoenix; for Master Duo: yew and, though I've never heard it used before, the hair from the tail of a thestral; for Master Trowa: birch and sphinx hair; and for Master Quatre: willow and unicorn hair. I will take my leave now, but I will have these ready in a couple days. Master Duo will explain everything." With that he pushed to his feet, with the items in his hands, and left the room.

As soon as he was gone the other four turned and pinned the braided teen to the spot with their eyes. Duo sighed as he fumbled slightly with the latch on the owl's cage, the bird already perched on his arm.

"Have a seat," he ran his free hand down his face. "Let me just send off these letters and I'll explain everything."

He took his time attaching the two letters to the bird's outstretched leg, gathering his thoughts as he did so. He knew he had to tell them, he just hoped he'd be able to do it justice and not have them scoff or laugh at him. He finally released the owl out the window and turned back to his companions.

"Well," he took a deep breath and perched on the edge of the table. "I guess I'll start at the beginning. When I was six years old, I was taken in by the Maxwell Church Orphanage on L2. Shortly after arriving, Father Maxwell and Sister Helen told me about a hidden society, I guess you could call it, on the Sphere that they were both a part of. They told me because I was exhibiting signs of being part of that group as well."

"Is it something illegal?" Quatre bit his lip nervously. "Are you doing something dangerous, Duo?"

"What?" he frowned. "No, the only thing like that I've ever done was piloting Deathscythe. Now, please don't interrupt, otherwise I'll never get through this. The society is comprised of witches and wizards and deals with magic. Before you scoff or write it off, hear me out please. I can't prove that it exists, yet, I don't have a wand, but I do know it's real. Aw, damn it, I don't know how to explain it without showing you."

"Magic," Heero said in a monotone, staring at his computer screen, "noun. 1: The art that purports to control or forecast natural events, effects, or forces by invoking the supernatural. 2: a: The practice of using charms, spells, or rituals to attempt to produce supernatural effects or control events in nature. 2: b: The charms, spells, and rituals so used. 3: The exercise of sleight of hand or conjuring for entertainment. 4: A mysterious quality of enchantment: "For me the names of those men breathed the magic of the past" (Max Beerbohm). Adjective. 1: Of, relating to, or invoking the supernatural: "stubborn unlaid ghost/That breaks his magic chains at curfew time" (John Milton). 2: Possessing distinctive qualities that produce unaccountable or baffling effects. Verb: magicked, magicking, magics: To produce or make by or as if by magic. Magic. Noun. 1: the art that, by use of spells, supposedly invokes supernatural powers to influence events; sorcery. 2: the practice of this art. 3: the practice of illusory tricks to entertain other people; conjuring. 4: any mysterious or extraordinary quality or power; the magic of springtime. Like magic, very quickly. Adjective: also Magical. 1: of or relating to magic; a magic spell. 2: possessing or considered to possess mysterious powers; a magic wand. 3: unaccountably enchanting; magic beauty. 4: _Informal_ wonderful; marvelous; exciting. Verb. 1: to transform or produce by or as if by magic. 2: _(foll by away)_ to cause to disappear by or as if by magic. Via Old French _magique, _from Greek magikē witchcraft, from _magos _magus. Magical adjective, Magically adverb. See also alchemy; divination; mysticism; spirits and spiritualism." (1)

"In not so many words, yes," amethyst eyes narrowed into a glare at the stoic Wing pilot.

Wufei muttered something under his breath, pointing his 'stick' at the braided teen. Duo's mouth continued moving but no sound was coming out. The other three stared at the self-proclaimed Shinigami in disbelief. Even though they were all well versed in reading lips it would've been evident to anyone that the only thing he was saying now were select curse words in several languages.

"How you know of this is beyond me," the Chinese teen scowled. "But he speaks the truth. This skill has been in my family for generations. I was told that it was a family trait and that was why the clan was banished to the colonies. However, obviously something has been misconstrued. Magic, as he calls it, is very real, as you can see. Though I would like to get to the bottom of this misunderstanding."

He waved his wand again and the table in front of him rose a good four feet into the air. Trowa slowly stood and began examining the table from all angles trying to find trips or wires creating the illusion.

"It's not fake," he shook his head. "We have no choice but to accept it as fact."

Heero and Quatre nodded. They really couldn't argue with it at this point. It would be foolish to do so.

Wufei flicked his wand again and Duo's voice returned in the middle of a rather loud expletive. When he realized this, he rubbed his neck sheepishly and looked around at his fellow pilots.

"Anyway, as I was saying, this world is safe from outside influence, they make sure of it," he gesticulated wildly. "I just sent two letters to a contact of Sister Helen's, I think she said it was her mother or some relation or another, but one is from Sister Helen herself, that I've been carrying around since I was first told, and the other explains our predicament. She's a teacher at a boarding school, it's the perfect cover for us. All we need to do is wait for her to respond."

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Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat down at the kitchen table of her summer home with her fellow colleague Poppy Pomfrey, the nurse of said school, directing a light lunch over with her wand. Poppy had stopped by to check on her, making sure she was still on the right track to recovery after her run in with the Ministry officials at the end of last term. Other than slight twinges, she was well on her way.

They had just started eating when a black owl swooped in through the open window and landed next to Minerva's plate. Never before had either of them seen a bird of that color. Both women stared at the bird as it stuck out it's leg toward the Transfiguration professor. Tied to the outstretched leg were two envelopes, one a crisp white, while the other was rather yellowed with age.

Simultaneously, Minerva removed the two letters and picked up her wand, to check them for jinxes. As soon as the envelopes were off, the owl fluttered over to a perch next to the window and began drinking from the water dish, obviously waiting for an answer. After deeming the letters clean, Minerva broke the seal on the older looking one first.

Mother,

If you are reading this, then the most joyous occasion has come to pass: My son has finally made it to the Earth Sphere. I know I told you years ago that my Devan had been killed in the plague, but in truth, I didn't know. Because of my position within the colony, I had to hide the fact that I even had a child, as it is considered a sin within the Church. I gave him to a nice family who were regular attendees of the Maxwell Church, however, two short years later, the family was one of the first taken out by the plague. Now, four years later, Father Maxwell has just brought in a group of orphans which includes my baby. Now you may ask how I know that it is my Devan. It was his eyes, Mother. He has his grandpa's eyes. I always remember you telling me about how Father's eyes always looked purple in the right light, well Devan's are that way too. Though he goes by Duo now.

Anyway, enough of my ramblings, he's home now and that's what matters. Matthew has said that we will plan a trip to the Sphere very soon, but the congregation comes first. It may not be all three of us, Mother, but we will send Duo, hopefully in time for him to attend school. This letter is for such an occasion: if Duo arrives without Matthew or I.

With love,

Your daughter,

Helen

Minerva was glad she was sitting down. She knew this letter had to be over eight years old, but what it was saying was just short of miraculous. She had believe for the past eight years that her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had all died in what was to be known as the L2 Maxwell Church Massacre.

"Poppy," she covered her mouth to keep from sobbing openly. "My grandson could be alive."

"Are you sure?" the medi-witch gave her a startled look. The two of them had been the best of friends since their own school days and there were no secrets between them.

Minerva nodded and handed her daughter's letter over to Poppy. While the medi-witch read through it, she broke the seal on the other letter, not daring to hope that it contained the news that she longed for.

Professor McGonagall,

If you haven't done so, I recommend reading the other letter I sent first. I think it's a letter of introduction, don't know for sure as I've never read it. Now, I'm assuming you read the other letter now, my name is Duo Maxwell. I have a small favor to ask of you and I know you'll probably refuse, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? You see, me and four of my friends are in a bit of a predicament. We currently find ourselves on the run from the authorities, the normal kind, not Wizarding ones. Now, before I know you'll accept to take in five fugitives, I know you want answers. Well, never let it be said that Duo Maxwell lied.

Okay, let's see, where to start? Oh okay, here we go. At the end of last year, Christmas to be exact, there was a great battle in space, between the Earth Sphere and the Colonies. Me and my companions took part in that battle, and many others before that. We were considered terrorists on the Sphere cause we were willing to fight for what we believed in. When the final battle was finished, we were pardoned for all previous crimes, as they were the direct result of war. Now, however, six months later, we find ourselves being hunted down by the leader of the Preventers, that's their new law enforcement agency, to see what has been done to us by the scientists who first sent us on our missions. But we all know that nothing was done to us, but no one is willing to listen to us.

If you are still willing to help us after hearing all this, please meet me in the Leaky Cauldron, at ten in the morning of August 5.

Sincerely,

Duo Maxwell

"Poppy, he's alive," tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. "He's alive. And he wants to meet with me."

"When?" the medi-witch looked at her curiously.

"Saturday," she sniffed. "I have to prepare a few rooms, and inform Dumbledore..."

Poppy Pomfrey barely controlled a laugh as she watched her best friend, the usually composed Minerva McGonagall, flutter around like a nesting bird.

1. www. thefreedictionary .com/magic (just take out the spaces)


	2. Chapter 2

Gundam Siege

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT!

AN: Okay, here's the second chapter of GS, it took on a totally different direction than what I thought it would, but I like it. More of the HP characters will show up in the following chapter, I just felt that this one should not include them. Anyway, I think I'm rambling...

Chapter 2: A Trip to Diagon Alley

Mr. Maxwell,

I'm afraid that I myself cannot meet you on the specified date, however, there is a colleague of mine going to be there escorting another group of students on that day. I have also enclosed a list of books that normal sixth year students would require and the classes they are used for. Feel free to choose the books for the subjects you are interested in. After your shopping trip, my colleague, Rubeus Hagrid, will escort you and your friends back to Hogwarts, where I will meet you and have you sit your O.W.L.s.

You will know Hagrid when you see him, he's over seven feet tall, with black hair and beard. I will see you when you arrive.

Till then,

Minerva McGonagall

"We're in, guys," Duo beamed, passing the letter to the others. "On Saturday, all our troubles are over. Well, at least the mundane ones."

"We just have to wait for the next few days?" Wufei scoffed. "And what happens if Lady Une and her new underlings find us first? We're sitting ducks until then."

"No," Duo shook his head. "Rashid has already taken steps to ensure our continued safety until Saturday. The house is currently under several concealments and charms. We won't be found by anyone we don't want."

"So what do we do in the mean time?" Quatre bit his lip nervously.

"You study," Rashid answered, entering the parlor where the boys were all gathered. "When you arrive in the Wizarding world, you will be taking the most important tests they offer. The O.W.L.s not only decide what classes you will be taking for the next couple years, but the future careers you can apply for within the Wizarding world. Now, a couple other Maganacs and I will be teaching you for the next couple days. I will warn you now, though, we won't go easy on you."

"Hn," Heero grunted. "Mission accepted."

The next couple days passed in a grueling fashion for the former Gundam pilots as they learned five years of spells, incantations, wand movements, and potions in that short space of time. If it had been anyone other than the five of them, it wouldn't have been possible.

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On Saturday morning the boys prepared their belongings and got ready to leave. They bid farewell to the Maganacs that had taught them and cared for them while they'd been in hiding, and slipped into the still dark night around them. The plan was to drive to London before the sun rose and disappear into the Wizarding world from there, via a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. While they waited for their contact, they would visit the Wizarding bank, Gringotts, and exchange enough money so they could live comfortably for the next few years.

The plan worked. Though the trip to the bank lasted a bit longer than they expected, they still managed to make it to the Leaky Cauldron in time to meet with their contact. At five till ten a tall figure walked into the pub, tall meaning he almost had to duck to avoid the hanging lanterns from the ceiling. This had to be their contact. Duo slowly pushed to his feet and made his way over to the new arrival.

"Hey," he greeted casually, "you Hagrid?"

"You must be Duo," the man said loudly, and Duo was sure he had at least some giant blood in him.

"That would be me," he shook his head, his braid swinging slightly with the movement. "Well come on over and meet the others, then we can get this thing started."

Hagrid nodded and allowed the braided teen to lead the way back to the table where the others were seated. After quick introductions, the half giant led them out into Diagon Alley. They went to get their robes first, then their books, followed by their Potions supplies. After the necessities were out of the way, Quatre suggested they go into a pet store. Hagrid followed them into the shop. Upon seeing him, the woman behind the counter waved him over and he disappeared with her into a back room. The five boys just shrugged as they proceeded to look around the shop. It wasn't like they needed a bodyguard anyway, the only reason they had asked for someone to meet them was to get to the school.

Trowa was instantly drawn to a cage of cats set up on a shelf. He slipped his fingers inside and was instantly rewarded for his daring as a small dark gray kitten scurried over to the bars and began sniffing at his hand. After a moment, the kitten began licking the fingers, and batting at them. With a small smile, Trowa opened the cage door and lifted the feline into his hands. He began scratching it behind the ears as it settled itself in his arms and began purring. Turning decisively he made his way to the counter.

"I'll take this one," he informed the woman, who had just returned.

88

Wufei wandered idly around the shop, peering into various cages and examining the animals within. He didn't want or need a pet, so he saw no need to actually feign interest in any of the creatures. It was as he passed by the door that he felt it. He wasn't sure what _it_ was, but it was an overwhelming urge to leave the shop. Making sure their escort was still occupied and that he wasn't drawing the attention of the others, he slipped out the door and headed off down the street, following the strange draw.

He ended up down a shabby looking side street, called Knockturn Alley, but he'd been in worse places than this before. He finally stopped outside a seedy looking shop named Borgin and Burke's. He would've turned around right then and there just by the look of the place, it was definitely a money trap, but the feeling was stronger here, and he had no choice but to see where it led.

A faint tingling bell sounded as the former Shenlong pilot pushed open the door. Shortly thereafter, a greasy looking man appeared behind the counter. He chose to ignore him for the moment as he made his way to a far shelf. He stood on tiptoe and reached into the shadowed depths of the top shelf and pulled out what looked, at first glance, to be a fist sized dark aquamarine. He stared at it for a moment as comprehension dawned in his eyes, before moving to the counter.

"I'll take this," he informed the man, who was watching him suspiciously.

"100 Galleons," the shop keep said without batting an eye.

"Outrageous," Wufei scoffed. "Do you even know what this is, sir?"

"It's a stone that is impervious to any magic thrown at it," the man gave him a condescending look. "Now, if you can't pay, kid, get out of my shop."

"This," the Chinese youth weighed the object in his hand, "is a dragon egg. The reason it is impervious to magic is because the dragon itself protects it. Now, you can either lower your price, or I can go to the authorities and inform them you are peddling illegal dragon eggs in your store... among other things."

As he spoke the man behind the counter began to sweat, his eyes darting anxiously out the window, as if someone could hear what Wufei was saying. He then looked into the Asian teen's serious face and knew that he'd have to take a cut, or he'd be out of business.

"Ten Knuts and its yours," he almost shouted at the now smirking teen.

"Very well," the former Shenlong pilot pulled out a small money pouch and placed the appropriate coins on the counter. "Have a good day, sir."

88

Heero, meanwhile, was following Duo around the pet shot as he began pointing out various animals. The former Wing pilot shook his head, not sure why he put up with the braided baka. It was as he watched the swinging braid brush against the back of Duo's legs that he remembered exactly what it was that had him captivated with the former street rat. He was actually quite hard pressed not to grab the rope of hair and drag his boyfriend into his arms.

He quickly averted his eyes from the too tempting sight, only to have them land on something almost as interesting. Sitting alone in a cage, right at eye level, was the strangest looking creature he had ever seen, in real life anyway. It resembled a ferret, even down to the mask adorning it's face, but the thing that set it apart from the normal everyday ferret was the set of small horns on the top of its head.

He went over to the cage, now tuning out the former Deathscythe pilot completely. The small animal lifted its head from its sleeping position and regarded the former Wing pilot with a shrewd gaze. Heero reached up and slipped his hand inside the cage. The ferret continued to regard him until his hand was an inch away from the creature. After a moment's contemplation, in which neither human nor animal broke eye contact, the ferret moved forward and nuzzled its head into the outstretched hand.

"Hey, Heero," Duo's voice broke the staring match, "what about this one? It reminds me of what you were like when we first met."

"How so?" the brunette turned to regard his boyfriend, in which the ferret seized the opportunity to scamper up his arm and onto his shoulder.

"Well," the self-proclaimed Shinigami gave him a cheeky grin, "he's antisocial, probably thinks he's Evel Knievel, and doesn't speak."

"And what makes you say that?" blue eyes rolled in annoyance.

"When I went to pet him," the braided teen shrugged. "Ya know, I opened the cage to reach in and all he did was glare at me. And then he turned around and basically flipped me the bird with his tail."

"Hn," Heero shook his head. "I found the one I like."

"Aww, alright," Duo slouched away from the cage that held the sleek black cat.

88

As the former Deathscythe pilot moved away, a dark eye rose to regard him curiously. Who did that braided baka think he was, trying to poke and prod him as if he was some kind of freak on display. He slowly pushed himself up onto all fours and began stretching out the kinks in his back. It was as he was getting a particularly nasty one out of his lower back that he opened his eyes and noticed that something wasn't right.

What happened to his hands? And why the fuck was he covered in fur? This could not be happening to him. He turned around to look at the rest of himself and it was then that he caught sight of the twitching monstrosity known as a tail. NOOOO!

88

Quatre was looking around at the different varieties of animals the shop held. While most of them were cute or at least intriguing, not of them really caught his attention. He was just about to catch up with Heero and Duo when he felt a sudden surge of fear, confusion, panic, and rage slam against his Space Heart.

His head whipped around wildly as he tried to identify the source of the sporadic emotions. His eyes finally landed on a cage that held a rather large black cat with swirling red eyes. His brow knit together in confusion as he stepped closer to the cage and the animal. This was strange, he had never picked up on animal emotions before. What was so special about this cat, well more panther?

"It's okay," he went over and placed his hand on the bars, not wanting to get too close and lose a finger or something. "There's nothing to fear here. No one's going to hurt you."

The red eyes landed on the blonde and he had to stop himself from taking an involuntary step backward at the intensity of the glare. Instead he reached his fingers inside the bars, in a show of trust and compassion.

"There now, it's not so bad," he said quietly, his tone meant to sooth. "Did Duo scare you?"

He moved the fingers slightly, brushing the dark fur lightly. The cat turned to stare at the offending digits but didn't move to stop them, the emotions now turning wary. Feeling a bit more brave, the former Sandrock pilot opened the cage and slipped his other hand inside and began petting the feline behind the ears. The cat's eyes closed as he leaned into the gentle touch, a deep rumbling purr filling the silence. Quatre couldn't help but giggle at the animal's total abandon. He continued, his own eyes closing as he felt the emotions settle down.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes, only to have them widen in shock. Inside the cage was now a small kitten, exactly where the big cat had been, still enjoying the scratching fingers. He withdrew his hand slowly, causing the cat to open its now black eyes.

"You are a strange one, aren't you?" he shook his head as he lifted the kitten out of the cage. "How would you like to come with me?"

The cat cocked it's head to the side, seeming to consider the question before giving a very pronounced nod. The blonde gave him a funny look but carried the animal to the counter to purchase.

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After they had purchased their animals, (Hagrid had tried to protest their choices but quickly silenced himself at a glare from Heero) they made their way back out to the street. Wufei had managed to join them again before they left the shop, so he wasn't missed. As they walked one more shop caught the eye of one of their numbers.

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, these windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked. Their eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

Why are you worrying about You-Know-Who?

You should be worrying about U-No-Poo—

The constipation sensation

That's gripping the nation!

"U-No-Poo!" Duo almost doubled over laughing, causing the whole procession to halt. "Can we go in there, Hee-chan, please?"

Their escort had just opened his mouth to say something when the former Wing pilot spoke up.

"No."

"But Hee-chan," the braided boy whined.

"No."

"Come on, just for a minute."

"No," and before the former Deathscythe pilot could protest further, Heero grabbed the three foot braid in his hand and began using it like a leash to lead Duo away. Amethyst eyes stared longingly at the vibrant store as their owner walked backwards, being 'led' away by his boyfriend.

When they reached the pub, Hagrid explained to them how to use the floo, and sent them through to Hogwarts. They arrived, one after the other, in a round office that was littered with all sorts of strange, shiny, and whirling instruments, as well as a large red bird sleeping on a perch beside a large desk. Standing in front of the desk was an old man with long white hair and a beard that could easily be tucked into his belt, dressed in a set of dark blue robes with dancing moons and stars on them, and a stern looking woman with her hair pulled back into a severe looking bun, wearing tartan robes.

"Hiya," Duo greeted, bounding forward. "I'm Duo Maxwell, these are my friends, Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton, Quatre Winner, and Wufei Chang."

As he said their names they each nodded in turn, letting the braided teen be in charge for now, as these were his contacts.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the old man began, but before he got anything else out the woman practically threw herself on the former Deathscythe pilot, sobbing.

Duo's eyes widened comically as they began darting around, looking for any form of aid. Cautiously, he raised his hand and began awkwardly patting the woman gently on the back.

"It's okay, Lady," he said nervously, not sure what was going on.

With one final sniff, the woman pulled back, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Forgive me," she gave a water smile. "You just look so much like your mother."

"Sorry, Lady," the braided teen shook his head, "I never knew my mother."

"Nonsense," she waved him off, now completely composed. "Your mother, Helen Maxwell, was the one who wrote the other letter you sent me. She was also my daughter, and I would recognize my grandson anywhere. Now, I believe the five of you have some tests to attend to."

"Whoa, wait," Duo stuttered. "You can't just say something like that and then change the subject. What do you mean, Helen Maxwell? Are you talking about Sister Helen?"

"We will have plenty of time over the coming year to get to know one another," she smiled at him. "Right now, however, the examiners are waiting down stairs for you to sit your O.W.L.s."

* * *

Ammie: Okay, there's the second chapter... I did fix the error... I accidentally put Quat in Fei's Gundam... they'll probably kill me for it later... anyway, let me know what ya think.


	3. Chapter 3

Gundam Siege

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Pour me something strong and we might believe I own this shit...

AN: Okay, hopefully this makes up for my lack of updating yesterday... as my muse is a temperamental asshole. Anyway, here is my third day of Christmas chapter.

I know there is quite a bit taken directly from the books in this chapter, but as with Castle Guards, this one follows the books really closely, but hopefully in the coming chapters there will be more extras. And if the chapter seems to skip a large section, it means that whatever is missing comes directly out of the books and I didn't want to put the whole thing in here... Anyway, moving on...

Chapter 3: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.

"Quick, quick, through the barrier," said Mrs. Weasley, who seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency. "Harry had better go first, with—"

She looked inquiringly at one of the Aurors, who nodded briefly, seized Harry's upper arm, and attempted to steer him toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"I can walk, thanks," said Harry irritably, jerking his arm out of the Auror's grip. He pushed his trolley directly at the solid barrier, ignoring his silent companion, and found himself, a second later, standing on platform nine and three-quarters, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd.

Hermione and the Weasleys joined him within seconds. Without waiting to consult his grim-faced Auror, Harry motioned to Ron and Hermione to follow him up the platform, looking for an empty compartment.

"We can't, Harry," said Hermione, looking apologetic. "Ron and I've got to go to the prefects' carriage first and then patrol the corridors for a bit."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," said Harry.

"You'd better get straight on the train, all of you, you've only got a few minutes to go," said Mrs. Weasley, consulting her watch. "Well, have a lovely term, Ron..."

"Mr. Weasley, can I have a quick word?" said Harry, making up his mind on the spur of the moment.

"Of course," said Mr. Weasley, who looked slightly surprised, but followed Harry out of earshot of the others nonetheless.

Harry had thought it through carefully and come to the conclusion that, if he was to tell anyone, Mr. Weasley was the right person; firstly, because he worked at the Ministry and therefore in the best position to make further investigations, and secondly, because he thought that there was not too much risk of Mr. Weasley exploding with anger. Even though his decision and wayward thoughts caused a sharp pain to shoot through his heart.

He could see Mrs. Weasley and the grim-faced Auror casting the pair of them suspicious looks as they moved away.

"When we were in Diagon Alley," Harry began, but Mr. Weasley forestalled him with a grimace.

"Am I about to discover where you, Ron, and Hermione disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of Fred and George's shop?"

"How did you—"

"Harry, please. You're talking to the man who raised Fred and George."

"Er... yeah, all right, we weren't in the back room."

"Very well, then, let's hear the worst."

"Well, we followed Draco Malfoy. We used my Invisibility Cloak."

"Did you have any particular reason for doing so, or was it a mere whim?"

"Because I thought Malfoy was up to something," said Harry, though it wasn't entirely the truth, disregarding Mr. Weasley's look of mingled exasperation and amusement. "He'd given his mother the slip and I wanted to know why."

He didn't mention to the Weasley patriarch that he had secretly been hoping to talk to the blond, whom he hadn't seen since the train ride home at the end of the previous year. He had secretly hoped that what had happened between them the previous year would extend into this one, but he wasn't sure anymore. But he couldn't disregard what he overheard, and no matter how much it hurt not trusting his once boyfriend, he had to say something.

"Of course you did," said Mr. Weasley, sounding resigned. "Well? Did you find out why?"

"He went into Borgin and Burkes," said Harry, "and started bullying the bloke in there, Borgin, to help him fix something. And he said he wanted Borgin to keep something else for him. He made it sound like it was the same kind of thing that needed fixing. Like they were a pair. And..."

Harry took a deep breath, he really didn't want to believe this one to be true at all.

"There's something else. We saw Malfoy jump about a mile when Madam Malkin tried to touch his left arm. I think he's been branded with the Dark Mark. I think he's replaced his father as a Death Eater."

Mr. Weasley looked taken aback. After a moment he said, "Harry, I doubt whether You-Know-Who would allow a sixteen-year-old—"

"Does anyone really know what You-Know-Who would or wouldn't do?" asked Harry angrily, more so with the betrayal he felt rather than at the man before him. "Mr. Weasley, I'm sorry, but isn't it worth investigating? If Malfoy wants something fixing, and he needs to threaten Borgen to get it done, it's probably Dark or dangerous, isn't it?"

"I doubt it, to be honest, Harry," said Mr. Weasley slowly. "You see, when Lucius Malfoy was arrested, we raided his house. We took away everything that might have been dangerous."

"I think you missed something," said Harry stubbornly, though he didn't want it to be true.

"Well, maybe," said Mr. Weasley, but Harry could tell that Mr. Weasley was humoring him.

There was a whistle behind them; nearly everyone had boarded the train and the doors were closing.

"You'd better hurry," said Mr. Weasley, as Mrs. Weasley cried, "Harry, quickly!"

He hurried forward and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley helped him load his trunk onto the train.

"Now, dear, you're coming to us for Christmas, it's all fixed with Dumbledore, so we'll see you quite soon," said Mrs. Weasley through the window, as Harry slammed the door shut behind him and the train began to move. "You make sure you look after yourself and—"

The train was gathering speed.

"—be good and—"

She was jogging to keep up now.

"—stay safe!"

Harry waved until the train had turned a corner and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were lost to view, then turned to see where the others had got to. He supposed Ron and Hermione were cloistered in the prefects' carriage, but Ginny was a little way along the corridor, chatting to some friends. He made his way toward her, dragging his trunk.

People stared shamelessly as he approached. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him. He had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping he would have to endure this term after all the "Chosen One" rumors in the _Daily Prophet_, but he did not enjoy the sensation of standing in a very bright spotlight. He tapped Ginny on the shoulder.

"Fancy trying to find a compartment?"

"I can't, Harry, I said I'd meet Dean," said Ginny brightly. "See you later."

"Right," said Harry.

"Ya know what I really don't get?" a voice behind him said conversationally, causing Harry to turn to see who was addressing him, only to see five teens he'd never seen before walking down the corridor. The speaker had a long braid swinging down his back and the strangest ensemble Harry had seen in the Wizarding world, almost looking like a Muggle priest, "I don't get why she poofed us all the way to London, just so we could ride this damned train back to the school. I mean, this is going to take all day, cause it's a fucking train, not a jet, or a plane, or even a shuttle, but a fucking train. I bet I could get there faster walking Deathscythe to the castle."

"Hn," his companion with shaggy brown hair grunted, wrapping the other's braid around his hand as they walked.

"Come on," the little blond shook his head. "Let's go find a compartment."

"Hi, Harry!" said a familiar voice from behind him as the five walked past him and out of sight.

"Neville!" said Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling toward him.

"Hello, Harry," said a girl with long hair and large misty eyes, who was just behind Neville.

"Luna, hi, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you," said Luna. She was clutching a magazine to her chest; large letters on the front announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside.

"_Quibbler_ still going strong, then?" asked Harry, who felt a certain fondness for the magazine, having given it an exclusive interview the previous year.

"Oh yes, circulation's well up," said Luna happily.

"Let's find seats," said Harry, and the three of them set off along the train through hordes of silently staring students. At last they found an empty compartment, and Harry hurried them inside gratefully.

"They're even staring at us!" said Neville, indicating himself and Luna. "Because we're with you!"

"They're staring at you because you were at the Ministry too," said Harry, as he hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack. "Our little adventure there was all over the _Daily_ _Prophet_, you must've seen it."

"Yes, I thought Gran would be upset about all the publicity," said Neville, "but she was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my dad at long last. She bought me a new wand, look!"

He pulled it out and showed it to Harry.

"Cherry and unicorn hair," he said proudly. "We think it was one of the last Ollivander ever sold, he vanished next day—oi, come back here, Trevor!"

And he dived under the seat to retrieve his toad as it made one of its frequent bids for freedom.

"Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year, Harry?" asked Luna, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of _The Quibbler_.

"No point now we've got rid of Umbridge, is there?" said Harry, sitting down. Neville bumped his head against the seat as he emerged from under it. He looked most disappointed.

"I liked the D.A.! I learned loads with you!"

"I enjoyed the meetings too," said Luna serenely. "It was like having friends."

This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment. Before he could respond, however, there was a disturbance outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls was whispering and giggling together on the other side of the glass.

"You ask him!"

"No, you!"

"I'll do it!"

And one of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, a prominent chin, and long black hair pushed her way through the door.

"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane," she said loudly and confidently. "Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with _them_," she added in a stage whisper, indicating Neville's bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and Luna, who was now wearing her free Spectrespecs, which gave her the look of a demented, multicolored owl.

"They're friends of mine," said Harry coldly.

"Hey, you there," the braided stranger from earlier appeared behind Romilda and none too gently nudged her aside, "can't you see you're not wanted here? Run along and play with your little girlfriends. By the way," he nodded in Harry and Luna's direction, "thanks for saving us seats."

"Oh," said the girl, looking very surprised. "Oh. Okay."

And she withdrew. The five boys entered the compartment and slid the door closed behind them.

"People expect you to have cooler friends than us," said Luna, once again displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty.

"You are cool," said Harry shortly, as the newcomers took seats around the compartment. "None of them was at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me."

"That's a very nice thing to say," beamed Luna. Then she pushed her Spectrespecs farther up her nose and settled down to read _The Quibbler_.

"We didn't face _him_, though," said Neville, emerging from under the seat with fluff and dust in his hair and a resigned-looking Trevor in his hand, while the five others looked between the three curiously. "You did. You should hear my gran talk about you. _'That Harry Potter's got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!'_ She'd give anything to have you as a grandson..."

Harry laughed uncomfortably and changed the subject to O.W.L. results as soon as he could. While Neville recited his grades and wondered aloud whether he would be allowed to take a Transfiguration N.E.W.T. with only an "Acceptable," while Harry took in the five others that had joined them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the braided one waved his hands in front of him. "You're saying they might not let us take certain classes cause of what grades we got?"

"Professor McGonagall explained that to us when we sat the tests, Maxwell," the black haired teen rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Or were you not paying attention, again?"

"I was paying attention," Maxwell pouted. "I was just wondering if you had been Fei-Fei."

"Maxwell!" Fei-Fei growled as his fists clenched in his lap.

"Enough," the shaggy haired brunet gave them both a glare that silenced them in an instant.

"So, who are you guys anyway?" Neville asked shyly, almost frightened that the glare would be turned on him.

"Name's Duo Maxwell, I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie," the braided boy beamed.

"Heero Yuy, it's a pleasure," cool blue eyes stared blankly at the round-faced boy.

"Trowa Barton," said the one with a long fall of hair obscuring half his face.

"Wufei Chang."

"I'm Quatre Raberba Winner," the blond smiled kindly at the other three occupants of the car.

"I'm Harry," he nodded, though he was sure he'd heard the last name somewhere before.

"Luna, but everyone calls me Loony," she looked up from her magazine and smiled vaguely.

"Neville Longbottom."

"It's nice ta meet ya'll," Duo beamed. "We're new, just transferred in a week ago. So what's this Hogglewarts place like anyway? Granny didn't tell us much when we arrived. Then again, we were taking tests for the past week."

"You all right, Harry? You look funny," said Neville, catching Harry staring at him.

Harry started. "Sorry—I—"

"Wrackspurt got you?" asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry through her enormous colored spectacles.

"I—what?"

"A Wrackspurt... They're invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," she said. "I thought I felt one zooming around in here."

She flapped her hands at thin air, as though beating off large invisible moths, causing Wufei to snort as he picked up a large tome and buried himself within its pages. Harry and Neville caught each other's eyes and hastily began to talk of Quidditch, though Duo looked a bit put out by the lack of explanation from the eccentric girl.

The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly overhead, that Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last.

"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," said Ron longingly, slumping into the seat beside Harry and rubbing his stomach, which caused the braided teen to scoff indignantly. "Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna. Guess what?" he added, turning to Harry. "Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."

Harry sat up straight, interested. It was not like Malfoy to pass up the chance to demonstrate his power as prefect, which he had happily abused all the previous year. He was also interested for other, more personal reasons, as well.

"What did he do when he saw you?" he tried to not sound too hopeful.

"The usual," said Ron indifferently, demonstrating a rude hand gesture. "Not like him though, is it? Well—_that_ is"—he did the hand gesture again—"but why isn't he out there bullying first years?"

"Dunno," said Harry, but his mind was racing. Didn't this look as though Malfoy had more important things on his mind than bullying younger students... unless he was turning over a new leaf, the more optimistic part of his brain supplied.

"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," said Hermione. "Maybe being prefect seems a bit tame after that."

"I don't think so," said Harry, though half of him was weeping with what he was thinking. "I think he's—"

"Oh, we're being rude," Hermione cut him off, looking around at the five boys. "We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Hermione Granger, and that's Ron Weasley."

The former Gundam pilots introduced themselves again, though it didn't seem to satisfy the bushy haired girl that much, if the scowl marring her features was any indication.

"Wait a minute," a look of dawning comprehension crossed her face. "You're the Gundam pilots, aren't you?" she looked specifically at Duo. "I know you are. I saw you on the news last year."

Four of the five tensed, however, Duo leaned forward slightly, a grin plastered across his face, "So what if we are, girly? Gonna turn us in? Get the reward money? You'll have a hell of a time with it."

"What? No!" she gasped, taken aback. "I thought what you did was really admirable. I was ever so pleased when I heard you had escaped from OZ custody. And what you all did to bring peace to the Earth and the Colonies was really brave."

"Wellll," he chuckled, leaning back in his seat with his hands behind his head, "if that's the case, we'll allow ya to live."

Heero reached out and smacked his boyfriend across the head. "Shut up, baka."

"Owwww! Heero!" the braided teen pouted. "And here I thought you loved me."

"That's debatable," was the monotone answer, causing Duo's pout to deepen.

Before another word could be said, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Quatre Winner, Duo Maxwell, Neville Longbottom, and Harry P-Potter," she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet. She was holding out four scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, the four took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.

"What is it?" Ron demanded, as Harry unrolled his.

"An invitation," said Harry.

_Harry,_

_I would be delighted if you would join me for a bit of lunch in compartment C._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor H. E. F. Slughorn_

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville, looking perplexedly at his own invitation as Duo and Quatre silently left the compartment.

"New teacher," said Harry. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" asked Neville nervously, as though he was expecting a detention.

"No idea," said Harry, which was not entirely true, though he had no proof yet that his hunch was correct. "Listen," he added, seized by a sudden brain wave, "let's go under the Invisibility Cloak, then we might get a good look at Malfoy on the way, see what he's up to."

88

When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

"Harry, m'boy!" said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silver mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville nodded, looking scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the only two empty seats, which were nearest the door. Harry glanced around at their fellow guests. Aside from the two new students, he recognized a Slytherin from their year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes; there were also two seventh-year boys Harry did not know and, squashed into the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, Ginny.

Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked Harry and Neville. "Duo Maxwell, Quatre Winner, and Blaise Zabini are in your year, of course—though the first two are new to Hogwarts this year."

Zabini did not make any sign of recognition or greeting, nor did Harry or Neville: Gryffindor and Slytherin students loathed each other on principle. Though Duo waved merrily, while Quatre nodded politely.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other? No?"

McLaggan, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.

"—and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether—?"

Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.

"—and _this_ charming young lade tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished.

Ginny grimaced at Harry and Neville from behind Slughorn's back, causing Duo, who was right next to Harry, to snort into his hand.

"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things... Pheasant, Belby?"

He talked to Belby for a moment, before turning his attention to Quatre. "Now, Quatre, I had the pleasure of teaching your mother back when she was in school."

"I'm sorry, sir," the blond Arabian said politely, "but I never knew my mother, she died shortly after I was born."

"I heard about that," Slughorn shook his head sympathetically. "More's the pity. She had such promise, too. Then again, coming from a prominent family like the Blacks it was to be expected. Now your father, from what I understand, was also a very influential Muggle."

"My family owns many of the natural resource satellites throughout space, yes," Quatre nodded. "However, my father also recently passed away, and it is still a rather sensitive subject with me, as I was there when it occurred."

"Yes, yes, of course, forgive an old man his memories," Slughorn apologized before turning his attention to Duo. "Now, from what I understand, your family history is closely tied in with Hogwarts, young Duo."

"If you're talking about Granny, then yeah," the braided teen shrugged. "Or at least that's what she says."

"Ah yes, Minerva McGonagall was always a bright witch, I remember when she was in my class, all those years ago," Slughorn smiled fondly. "Quite the temper she had back then. A temper your mother also had, if I recall correctly. I had the honor of teaching her as well. A very talented witch. It was such a pity that she went off to the Colonies with that lazy rogue, Maxwell." This statement caused Duo to clutch his napkin tightly in his fist as his face went blank. "They both had such promise, though Maxwell never displayed it like young Helen did. Then of course, there was that terrible accident at the Church they were working at."

"It wasn't an accident, you mother fucking asshole," Duo's eyes shot amethyst fire as he leapt to his feet, his fists trembling in rage. "They were murdered by the fucking Alliance. And I'd like it if you'd keep your fat mouth shut about them. You know nothing about them, or what they did. Father Maxwell and Sister Helen were the kindest people I've ever met, and they don't need some bastard like you belittling their sacrifice."

With that he threw his crumpled napkin on the table and stormed out of the compartment.

"Duo!" Quatre called, chasing after the braided teen.

The blond raced down the, surprisingly empty, corridor, looking for his friend and comrade, letting his Space Heart guide him. He didn't know much about Duo's past, but that was only because Duo never talked about it much. But now that he thought about it, he should've been able to put two and two together. He should've realized that Duo had known about the Maxwell Church Massacre, but he had obviously been too busy to notice, something he was kicking himself for at the moment.

He stopped outside a closed door, his Space Heart telling him the braided teen was just beyond the portal. He leaned closer and gently knocked, hoping Duo would let him in.

"Duo, it's me, Quatre," he pleaded when there was no answer to his knock. "Please let me in."

There was a faint click and he knew his friend had unlocked the door. He cautiously pushed it open, just enough for him to slip inside, before closing and locking it again. What he saw, and the emotions pouring off the braided teen, had him clutching his heart as tears stung the back of his eyes.

Duo was sitting on the floor next to the door, his face buried in his knees, which were drawn tightly up to his chest with his arms wrapped securely around them. The blond fell to his knees beside him and cautiously reached out his hand to place it on the self-proclaimed God of Death's shoulder, but hesitated just shy of actually touching him, not sure if he'd actually be welcome to.

"Duo?" he said instead, letting his hand fall back to his side. "Do you need me to get you anything? Perhaps I could get Heero for you?"

Without looking up, the former Deathscythe pilot nodded into his knees. He did want Heero. In fact, his boyfriend was the only one he really wanted at the moment. While he considered Quatre his best friend, he needed Heero's reassuring presence right now.

"I'll go get him, then," the little Arabian said quietly. "He'll be here soon. Just hold on till then, okay Duo?"

Without waiting for a response, Quatre pushed to his feet and left the bathroom. He made his way quickly back to the compartment the others were in, in search of their fearless leader. It didn't take him long to reach the compartment, and instead of going inside and causing an unnecessary scene he silently gained Heero's attention from the hallway. The former Wing pilot just got up and exited the compartment.

Once he was sure the door was closed, Quatre quietly explained what had happened with Slughorn and where Duo was. Heero just listened silently before nodding and taking off in the direction the blond had come. When he reached the bathroom Duo was in, he just picked the lock and went inside. Without a word, he just sat down next to his boyfriend and slipped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him to his side.

Duo, sensing Heero's presence, just turned his face into his chest and continued crying silently, drawing on his boyfriend's strength to help him gain control. Not a word was said between them, but none was needed. Out of all the former Gundam pilots, only Heero knew the entire story of Duo's past and only he would understand what was going through the former Deathscythe pilot's head at this point.

8888888

The corridors were almost completely empty now. Nearly everyone had returned to their carriages to change into their school robes and pack up their possessions. Though he was close as he could get to Zabini without touching him, Harry was not quick enough to slip into the compartment when Zabini opened the door. Zabini was already sliding it shut when Harry hastily stuck out his foot to prevent it closing.

"What's wrong with this thing?" said Zabini angrily as he smashed the sliding door repeatedly into Harry's foot.

Harry seized the door and pushed it open, hard; Zabini, still clinging to the handle, toppled over sideways into Gregory Goyle's lap, and in the ensuing ruckus, Harry darted into the compartment, leapt onto Zabini's temporarily empty seat, and hoisted himself up into the luggage rack. It was fortunate that Goyle and Zabini were snarling at each other, drawing all eyes onto them, for Harry was quite sure his feet and ankles had been revealed as the cloak had flapped around them; indeed, for one horrible moment he thought he saw Malfoy's eyes follow his trainer as it whipped upward out of sight. But then Goyle slammed the door shut and flung Zabini off him; Zabini collapsed into his own seat looking ruffled, Vincent Crabbe returned to his comic, and Malfoy, sniggering, lay back down across two seats with his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap. Harry lay curled uncomfortably under the cloak to ensure that every inch of him remained hidden, and watched Pansy stroke the sleek blond hair off Malfoy's forehead, smirking as she did so, as though anyone would have loved to have been in her place. Harry actually had to look away from that sight. As loathe as he was to admit it, he was rather jealous of the girl currently running her slimy hands through his ex-boyfriend's hair. The lanterns swinging from the carriage ceiling cast a bright light over the scene: Harry could read every word of Crabbe's comic directly below him, which he focused on rather intently.

"So, Zabini," said Malfoy, "what did Slughorn want?"

"Just trying to make up to well-connected people," said Zabini, who was still glowering at Goyle. "Not that he managed to find many."

This information did not seem to please Malfoy.

"Who else had he invited?" he demanded.

"McLaggen from Gryffindor," said Zabini.

"Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry," said Malfoy.

"—someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw—"

"Not him, he's a prat!" said Pansy.

"—two new students, Winner and Maxwell. Apparently Winner's a distant Black relative, and Maxwell's related to McGonagall—"

"A Black relative?" Malfoy scoffed. "Unlikely."

"—and Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl," finished Zabini.

Malfoy sat up very suddenly, knocking Pansy's hand aside.

"He invited _Longbottom_?"

"Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there," said Zabini indifferently.

"What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?"

Zabini shrugged.

"Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at '_the Chosen One,'_" sneered Malfoy, "but that Weasley girl! What's so special about _her_?"

"A lot of boys like her," said Pansy, watching Malfoy out of the corner of her eyes for his reaction. "Even you think she's good-looking, don't you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!"

"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," said Zabini coldly, and Pansy looked pleased. Malfoy sank back across her lap and allowed her to resume the stroking of his hair, causing Harry's lip to curl slightly.

"Well, I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train, or—"

"I wouldn't bank on an invitation," said Zabini. "He asked me about Nott's father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters."

Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humorless laugh.

"Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher," Malfoy yawned ostentatiously. "I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"

"What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" said Pansy indignantly, ceasing grooming Malfoy at once.

"Well, you never know," said Malfoy with the ghost of a smirk. "I might have—er—moved on to bigger and better things."

Crouched in the luggage rack under his cloak, Harry's heart began to race. What would Ron and Hermione say about this? Crabbe and Goyle were gawping at Malfoy; apparently they had no inkling of any plans to move on to bigger and better things. Even Zabini had allowed a look of curiosity to mar his haughty features. Pansy resumed the slow stroking of Malfoy's hair, looking dumbfounded.

"Do you mean—_Him_?"

Malfoy shrugged.

"Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it... When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't... It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown."

"And you think _you'll_ be able to do something for him?" asked Zabini scathingly. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"

"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," said Malfoy quietly.

Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Malfoy as though she had never seen anything so awe-inspiring.

"I can see Hogwarts," said Malfoy, clearly relishing the effect he had created as he pointed out of the blackened window. "We'd better get our robes on."

Harry was so busy staring at Malfoy, now totally convinced of his heart-wrenching theories, he did not notice Goyle reaching up for his trunk; as he swung it down, it hit Harry hard on the side of the head. He let out an involuntary gasp of pain, and Malfoy looked up at the luggage rack, frowning.

Harry was not afraid of Malfoy, quite the contrary actually, but he still did not much like the idea of being discovered hiding under his Invisibility Cloak by a group of unfriendly Slytherins. Eyes still watering and head still throbbing, he drew his wand, careful not to disarrange the cloak, and waited, breath held. To his relief, Malfoy seemed to decide that he had imagined the noise; he pulled on his robes like the others, locked his trunk, and as the train slowed to a jerky crawl, fastened a thick new traveling cloak round his neck.

Harry could see the corridors filling up again and hoped that Hermione and Ron would take his things out onto the platform for him; he was stuck where he was until the compartment had quite emptied. At last, with a final lurch, the train came to a complete halt. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second years, punching them aside; Crabbe and Zabini followed.

"You go on," Malfoy told Pansy, who was waiting for him with her hand held out as though hoping he would hold it. "I just want to check something."

Pansy left. Now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the compartment. People were filing past, descending onto the dark platform. Malfoy moved over to the compartment door and let down the blinds, so that people in the corridor beyond could not peer in. He then bent down over his trunk and opened it again.

Harry peered down over the edge of the luggage rack, his heart pumping a little faster. What had Malfoy wanted to hide from Pansy? Was he about to see the mysterious broken object it was so important to mend?

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_

Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was instantly paralyzed. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy's feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. He couldn't move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Malfoy, who smiled broadly.

"I thought so," he said jubilantly. "I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back..."

His eyes lingered for a moment on Harry's trainers, before darting back up to meet Harry's gaze. He moved forward and quickly relieved the brunet of his wand before removing the curse.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Draco drawled, twirling the holly wand between his fingers idly as the Gryffindor slowly uncurled himself and stared incredulously up at him. "Couldn't wait until the feast to see me again?"

"Oh yeah," emerald eyes narrowed into a glare, "cause I really wanted to see you again."

"Is that the way you want this to go?" the blond took a step forward, forcing Harry back. "Why did I have to get stuck with such an idiot for a boyfriend?"

"I'm not an idiot!" Harry snapped, still moving back as the Slytherin advanced. "And obviously we aren't boyfriends either, not if what I saw between you and Parkinson was anything to go by."

"God, not this again," Draco ran his hand through his hair in frustration, shuddering slightly at the memory of what he had had to endure for most of the train ride. "Do we really have to go over this again? I thought I made it quite clear at the end of last year that I'm not going anywhere."

"But I just saw..." the raven haired teen frowned.

"A show I'm putting on for the others," the Slytherin shook his head. "Harry, things are going on this year that neither you nor I can stop, and the less you know about it, the better. Just please trust me."

"I don't know if I can," Harry looked down at the floor of the compartment. "It's just too confusing."

"Don't worry about Pansy and the others," the blond moved forward again and placed his hand on Harry's cheek. "They mean nothing to me. They are just a means to an end. Please, believe me."

Green eyes rose slowly and locked with gray. For several minutes they just stood there, weighing each other with their eyes and waiting for the other's assessment. Finally, it was Harry who looked away first.

"I'll try, Draco," he sighed.

"Good," the blond leaned down and placed a rather chaste kiss on Harry's lips. "Now, please, forgive me?"

Before Harry could process what he was going to do, Draco had placed the body bind curse back on him.

"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here..." he said rather loudly in Harry's opinion.

And he shoved a purple piece of candy down Harry's throat, gently forcing it down; blood began spurting everywhere from Harry's nose.

"That's from my father. Now, let's see..."

Malfoy dragged the cloak out from under Harry's immobilized body and threw it over him.

"I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London," he said quietly. "See you around, Potter... or not."

And taking care to tread on Harry's fingers, Malfoy left the compartment.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, third day of Christmas down... nine more to go... hopefully Duo sticks with me for this... Anyway, let me know what ya think.


	4. Chapter 4

Gundam Siege

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: DUO CAME BACK TO ME!

AN: Okay, so Duo came back with a vengence, and hopefully I will have many updates on most of my fics within the next week or so. Anyway, I had this chapter planned before I even started writing this fic... so don't hate me for it. Alright, we shall proceed.

Chapter 4: The First Night at Hogwarts

Heero and Duo joined the others in their compartment again as the train began slowing down. They quickly donned their school robes, albeit with much complaining on the braided teen's part, and began gathering their things to exit the train. They joined the throng of students and made their way out to the thestral drawn carriages.

"Sweet!" the former Deathscythe pilot bounded over to the skeletal horses and began petting the nearest one, which nuzzled his hand affectionately. "These things never get old."

"Hn," Heero grunted as he latched on to Duo's braid and began pulling him into the carriage, where the other three pilots were waiting for them.

On the way to the castle, Duo kept up a running commentary, as was his nature, that served to both distract and soothe the other pilots. It was nice to have some sense of normalcy in this hectic, magic filled world they now found themselves in.

It didn't take them long to reach the castle and exit the carriages. As they made their way up the stairs to the main doors Professor McGonagall caught their attention and motioned them over to her.

"So, gentlemen," she gave them all an assessing look before nodding in approval at their compliance with the school dress code, "how did you like your first trip aboard the Hogwarts Express?"

"Pretty boring," Duo shrugged. "Except for the fact that I'm gonna kill Professor Slughorn if he doesn't keep his fat trap shut."

"Devan," her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I don't care whether you like all your professors or not, you will show them the proper respect, am I understood?"

"Yeah, yeah," amethyst eyes rolled in annoyance, "don't get your panties in a twist."

"Anyway," McGonagall's lips pursed in anger but she decided to let it slide this once, "if you five will follow me, I will show you where you shall be waiting until it is time for the Sorting Ceremony."

The five pilots fell in line behind her as she led them to a room just off the entrance hall. They were joined a few minutes later by the new batch of first years. From that point it didn't take too much longer before they were led into the Great Hall by Professor McGonagall and told to line up in front of the staff table, the former pilots after the first years.

The Sorting Hat sang its song, which the pilots barely listened to, having been briefed on this occurrence prior to boarding the train, as they took in the assembled students before them. They then waited patiently for the first years to be sorted into the four different houses, well all but Duo who began fidgeting halfway through the list of squirts. Finally, it was their turn to be sorted.

Before they were called forward, however, Dumbledore pushed to his feet and motioned needlessly for silence, "As I'm sure you have already noticed, this year we are joined by some very special new students joining us all the way from the Space Colonies. Please make them feel welcome into whichever house they are sorted into. You may continue, Professor McGonagall."

With a nod, she picked up a second scroll and opened it, "Chang, Wufei."

The Chinese teen stepped forward and sat calmly on the stool as the hat was placed on his head.

"_You don't quite belong here, do you?"_ the Sorting Hat said quietly into his ear. _"But you are not the first shinobi I've sorted. Are you here on a mission, or do I get to place you in the true house you belong in?"_

_'I have no mission,'_ the former Shenlong pilot scowled in confusion. _'Place me where you will.'_

"_Very well,"_ the Hat chortled. _"Let's look and see. A brilliant mind and a love of learning, Ravenclaw would suit you fine, but there is more: honor, bravery, daring, and what's this? Chivalry? No doubt about it..._ GRYFFINDOR!"

Wufei took the hat off his head, made his way over to the far left table, and sat down. McGonagall gave an approving nod before turning back to the scroll in her hands.

"Maxwell, Devan."

The braided teen sashayed his way over to the stool and flopped down, sending a beaming grin to the students seated at the four house tables. McGonagall shook her head as she put the hat on his head.

"_Hmm... what have we here?"_ the Hat sounded surprised. _"And here I thought I had placed the heir long ago, but no, you are the new heir. Yet, you don't quite fit in the house of your ancestor. Don't get me wrong, they would love you and treat you as royalty. In fact, you could turn that house around."_

"Are you going to continue rambling all night?" Duo asked loud enough for the silent room to hear as he cocked his head to the side curiously. "And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not be treated like royalty, met some before, bigger pains in the ass I've never met."

"_Well then,"_ the Hat sniffed indignantly, _"Salazar Slytherin forgive me..._ GRYFFINDOR!"

With a shrug, Duo removed the hat and dropped it unceremoniously back on the stool before joining his friend at the Gryffindor table. McGonagall gave a rare smile at the braided teen's back, causing most of the rest of the older student body to do a double take and stare incredulously at their Transfiguration professor. She cleared her throat as she turned back to the scroll.

"Potter, James," she said, and then blinked at the parchment in confusion.

There was a slight stir in the crowd of students but nowhere near as bad as what was happening at the table behind the pilots. The majority of the teachers were staring, open mouthed at the unibanged teen as he made his way over to the stool. However, two people in particular had very different reactions. Severus Snape was watching through narrowed black eyes as he took in every aspect of the former Heavyarms pilot, whereas Albus Dumbledore had a look of utter surprise and delight on his face.

Trowa sat down on the stool and calmly waited for McGonagall to place the hat on his head, seemingly unaware of the stir he had just caused within the walls of his new school.

"_What is this? Could it actually be another Potter?"_ the Hat said contemplatively. _"But where shall I put you? You'd do well in Slytherin, but maybe not. There is cunning here, yes, and resourcefulness, but that's not all. You don't use these attributes for your own gain, perhaps, then better be..._ GRYFFINDOR!"

With a nod, the former clown removed the hat and placed it back on the stool before joining the other two pilots at the Gryffindor table. McGonagall shook herself out of her slight stupor and returned to the list once again.

"Winner, Quatre."

When his name was called a scattering of muttering broke out throughout the hall, specifically among the students with Muggle parents.

"Did she just say Winner?"

"Is that _the_ Winner? As in Winner Enterprises?"

A sheepish smile crossed his face as the blond took a seat on the stool. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed: "GRYFFINDOR!"

He removed the hat and gratefully joined his companions at the designated table.

"Yuy, Heero," McGonagall read the last name off the parchment and rolled it back up as she turned to place the hat on the final pilot's head.

Heero patiently waited for his name to be called and then took his place on the stool. As the hat fell over Prussian blue eyes, the voice began.

"_Hmm... this is very interesting. There are very few people who would do well in any of the four Hogwarts houses. Yet you appear to be one of them. I, therefore, leave the choice to you. You may pick your own house."_

_'Put me with the others,'_ Heero answered silently. _'Easier that way.'_

"_The choice is made. Go on to _GRYFFINDOR!"

He joined the others and shortly thereafter the feast began.

8888888

They reached the castle steps at last and as the great oaken front doors swung open into the vast flagged entrance hall, a burst of talk and laughter and of tinkling plates and glasses greeted them through the doors standing open into the Great Hall. Harry wondered whether he could slip his Invisibility Cloak back on, thereby gaining his seat at the long Gryffindor table (which, inconveniently, was the farthest from the entrance hall) without being noticed. As though he had read Harry's mind, however, Snape said, "No cloak. You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I'm sure."

Harry turned on the spot and marched straight through the open doors: anything to get away from Snape. The Great Hall, with its four long House tables and its staff table set at the top of the room, was decorated as usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. It was all a shimmering blur to Harry, however, who walked so fast that he was passing the Hufflepuff table before people really started to stare, and by the time they were standing up to get a good look at him, he had spotted Ron and Hermione, sped along the benches toward them, and forced his way between them.

"Where've you—blimey, what've you done to your face?" said Ron, goggling at him along with everyone else in the vicinity.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" said Harry, grabbing a spoon and squinting at his distorted reflection.

"You're covered in blood!" said Hermione. "Come here—"

She raised her wand, said _"Tergeo!"_ and siphoned off the dried blood.

"Thanks," said Harry, feeling his now clean face. "How's my nose looking?"

"Normal," said Hermione anxiously. "Why shouldn't it? Harry, what happened? We've been terrified!"

"I'll tell you later," said Harry curtly. He was very conscious that Ginny, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were listening in; even Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had come floating along the bench to eavesdrop.

"But—" said Hermione.

"Not now, Hermione," said Harry, in a darkly significant voice. He hoped very much that they would all assume he had been involved in something heroic, preferably involving a couple of Death Eaters and a dementor. Of course, Malfoy would spread whatever story he'd come up with as far and wide as he could, but there was always a chance it wouldn't reach too many Gryffindor ears.

He reached across Ron for a couple of chicken legs and a handful of chips, but before he could take them they vanished, to be replaced with puddings.

"You missed the Sorting, anyway," said Hermione, as Ron dived for a large chocolate gateau.

"Hat say anything interesting?" asked Harry, taking a piece of treacle tart.

"More of the same, really... advising us all to unite in the face of our enemies, you know."

"Dumbledore mentioned Voldemort at all?"

"Not yet, but he always saves his proper speech for after the feast, doesn't he? It can't be long now."

"Snape said Hagrid was late for the feast—"

"You've seen Snape? How come?" said Ron between frenzied mouthfuls of gateau.

"Bumped into him," said Harry evasively.

"Hagrid was only a few minutes late," said Hermione. "Look, he's waving at you, Harry."

Harry looked up at the staff table and grinned at Hagrid, who was indeed waving at him. Hagrid had never quite managed to comport himself with the dignity of Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, the top of whose head came up to somewhere between Hagrid's elbow and shoulder as they were sitting side by side, and who was looking disapprovingly at this enthusiastic greeting. Harry was surprised to see the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, sitting on Hagrid's other side; she rarely left her tower room, and he had never seen her at the start-of-term feast before. She looked as odd as ever, glittering with beads and trailing shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size by her spectacles. Having always considered her a bit of a fraud, Harry had been shocked to discover at the end of the previous term that it had been she who had made the prediction that caused Lord Voldemort to kill Harry's parents and attack Harry himself. The knowledge had made him even less eager to find himself in her company, but thankfully, this year he would be dropping Divination. Her great beaconlike eyes swiveled in his direction; he hastily looked away toward the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was miming the shattering of a nose to raucous laughter and applause. Harry dropped his gaze to his treacle tart, his insides burning again. What he would not give to see Malfoy one-on-one...

"Harry!" Hermione nudged him, obviously she'd been trying to gain his attention for some time.

"What?" he looked at her curiously.

"There's something else," she bit her lip nervously. "The new students, you know, the ones we met on the train, they were sorted too."

"Well, yeah, of course they were," green eyes rolled in fond annoyance. "Where did they end up?"

"Gryffindor, all of them," Ron said gravely, pausing his eating long enough to show how serious he was. "Mate, one of them's going by the name James Potter."

"What?" Harry almost shouted but barely managed to keep his voice quiet. "But they told us their names on the train and none of them were named James Potter."

"I don't know what's going on," Hermione cast a glance in the direction of the former pilots. "But its the one with the long bang. He was the one going by James."

"He said his name was Trowa... Trowa something," green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why would he lie?"

"I don't know, mate," Ron shrugged, once again stuffing his face. "Maybe you should ask him. He is in our house after all."

"Maybe," the raven haired one frowned. "Did the others have different names?"

"Only the one with the braid," Hermione answered. "His name is Devan Maxwell, but Duo could just be a nickname."

"That one at least makes sense," Harry shook his head. "Well, we'll figure it out later."

"Anyway, what did Professor Slughorn want?" Hermione asked.

8888888

Harry and Ron made their way miserably up the stairs to Gryffindor tower. They felt bad for letting Hagrid down, but his class didn't fit in with what they wanted to do with their lives. They bypassed the usual crowd in the common room and headed straight for their dormitory, hoping to feel better come morning. However, once they entered their room, their minds were completely wiped clear of all thoughts of their half-giant friend.

The five new students were spread throughout the room silently unpacking while their older counterparts were sitting around watching and firing off questions at random.

"So," Dean Thomas, the only Muggleborn in the room, looked pointedly at the blond, "are you really a Winner? As in the family that owns almost all of the natural resource satellites throughout outer space?"

"Uh, yeah," a faint blush crossed the boyish cheeks of the Winner heir, "that'd be me."

"That is so cool," the dark skinned boy beamed. "You're practically royalty."

"No, I'm not," Quatre shook his head.

"Naw, Quat's just like anybody else," the braided teen slung his arm around the former Sandrock pilot's shoulder. "He puts his underwear on after his pants, just like the rest of us."

Nine incredulous stares were turned on the former Deathscythe pilot at this comment. He frowned for a moment, as if contemplating what he'd just said, before a look of comprehension finally crossed his features.

"Oh, wait, it's the other way around," he nodded sagely. "By the way, name's Duo, Duo Maxwell, I may run and hide but I never tell a lie. That's me in a nutshell."

"But McGonagall said your name was Devan Maxwell, so that's a lie right there," Seamus Finnigan felt the need to point out.

"Eh, what would she know," Duo waved him off. "She's only supposed to be my grandmother or something like that."

"Come again?" Ron gaped, open mouthed, at the braided teen, along with Dean and Seamus.

"Apparently she's supposed to be my unknown mother's mother," he shrugged. "So yeah, my grandma."

The redhead shook his head and in the process his eyes fell on the unibanged teen, who was silently preparing for bed.

"You!" he pointed at the former Heavyarms pilot, who turned slightly to regard him with his one visible eye.

"Did you need something?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, why did you tell us on the train your name was Trowa and then during the Sorting it was James Potter?" Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously, as the other three regular students turned to regard him curiously.

"Because James Potter is the name on my birth certificate," the former clown shrugged. "However, I've been using the name Trowa Barton for over a year now."

"Who are your parents?" Harry asked, a frown marring his features.

Trowa turned to look at Heero, who was the one who had actually looked up the information.

"James Potter, deceased," the former Wing pilot recited stoically, "Lily Potter, nee Evans, also deceased."

"How can you talk about them like that?" the raven haired wizard glared at the two former pilots, his fists clenched at his sides at their casual disregard of his parents' lives.

"I never knew them," Trowa shrugged. "And it doesn't do to long for someone you'll never have or remember."

"You may not care about them," Harry said through clenched teeth, "but I do. You would too if all you did remember about them was their screaming pleas to save your life. Never talk about my parents again, you bastard."

With that he grabbed his pajamas and stormed from the room. The five former Gundam pilots stared incredulously after him. What had him so riled up?

"Heero?" the unibanged teen turned a questioning gaze on their fearless leader.

"He must be your brother," the 'Perfect Soldier' shrugged, still in his monotone. "Harry James Potter, age 16. Current residence: 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, England. Guardians: Vernon and Petunia Dursley, nee Evans."

"Shut the fuck up!" Ron snapped, glaring between Trowa and Heero. "You know nothing about him or what he's gone through. He's not just a name on some fucking paper. He's a person with feelings and you just dropped the biggest fucking dungbomb on him. I don't blame him for storming out of here. In fact, the lot of you had better stay away from him, or you'll have me to deal with."

And with that he followed his best friend from the room.

"Weelll, wasn't that awkward," Duo clapped his hands together, breaking the silence that had descended on the room. "Anyway, time for bed. Coming Heero?"

The shaggy haired brunet nodded and joined his boyfriend, who had climbed into the bed between Quatre and Trowa.

"I don't care if you two share a bed," Wufei said from the bed on the other side of Trowa's, "but if I hear one moan from Duo, I'll emasculate both of you."

"Is that a challenge, Wuffers?" the braided teen grinned cheekily at him.

"Maxwell!" the Chinese teen growled.

"Night!" Duo's face disappeared behind the curtains of his shared bed.

"Good night, Trowa, Wufei," Quatre nodded at his still visible companions before closing his own curtains around him.

Silence descended as the other members of the Gryffindor sixth year boys' dormitory drifted off to sleep. Shortly after midnight, Harry and Ron drifted back in and found their own way to the land of Morpheus.

Five minutes later, the door opened once more and a dark shape slunk into the room. A moment later a light pressure landed on the end of the blond Arabian's bed, rousing him from his slumber. He reached under his pillow and automatically pulled his gun and leveled it on the intruder, only to lower it and smile slightly at the sight of his new pet, whom he had almost completely forgotten about in the excitement of the evening.

"Hello there," he said quietly, conscious of his sleeping roommates, and held out his hand for the temperamental feline. "I haven't seen you around recently."

The cat cocked its head to the side before meowing quietly. The former Sandrock pilot shook his head, he wished he could understand what his cat was saying.

"You know," he sat up slowly and carefully lifted the little animal into his arms, "I'm going to have to come up with a name for you. How about Midnight?"

The cat scrunched up its face in obvious disapproval.

"No?" the blond frowned. "How about fluffy?"

A low growl emanated from the rather annoyed feline.

"Obviously not. What about Soot?"

The growling continued.

"Spot? Floppy? Sandrock? Snookums?"

A low, angry hiss followed the last suggestion, along with a swipe from the newly extended claws.

"Fine then, Mr. Smartypants," Quatre pouted, rubbing at his now sore hand. "You tell me what name you want to go by."

He quickly and quietly located a scrap of parchment and a pen and began writing down the letters of the alphabet. When he was done he presented it to the silently twitching cat, and grabbed another so he could write down the name. The feline sauntered over to the parchment and placed his paw on the letter S. Quatre dutifully copied down the selected letters until the cat finally stopped. He glanced at the twelve letters in slight confusion, not making any sense out of them. Onyx eyes rolled in slight annoyance before he went over and batted at the piece of paper in his new 'owner's' hand. He tapped on the first letter once and then the seventh letter twice.

"Oh, I get it," the former Sandrock pilot nodded. "You want two names."

He quickly wrote them down again, this time separately.

"Alright then, your name shall be Sasuke Uchiha."

Sasuke nodded smugly before curling up in the middle of Quatre's pillow and falling almost instantly asleep, one final thought going through his head: Maybe this blond wasn't as much of a loser as the other one he knew.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, before anyone kills me, I know, putting all of the pilots in Gryffindor is cliched, but I wanted to follow the trend I set forth in CG. And for all of those looking for Naruto characters to make an appearance... well, there ya go. Anyway, hope ya'll enjoy and let me know what ya think.


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